


Wind Me Up And Get Your Way

by noahbea



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Lots of Angst Actually, M/M, Sex, Smut, but it gets better at the end, degredation, kinks and more kinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 22:10:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahbea/pseuds/noahbea
Summary: The recording of Hot Space doesn't go too well for John Deacon and soon he finds himself in an argument with his boyfriend. That is, until he realises Roger has a boner.(aka. john takes his anger out on roger and roger really doesn't mind being insulted at all)





	Wind Me Up And Get Your Way

**Author's Note:**

> hehe it's my first oneshot thingy. i've wanted to make one for a while because i get fed up of writing one thing and i'm always a slut for some dealor.  
> sorry for the hiatus on my other story, again i've been a bit uninspired but i think i'll get back into it now i've had a break from it and written something else.  
> enjoy ;))

“No, it-”  
“No?” John raised his eyebrows at him.  
“Yeah no! It should be like...” Roger played a tiny portion of the song, the sound echoing around the studio and causing more irritation with every hit of the drumstick. “Like that, that sounds way better!”  
“It’s too heavy Roger…”  
“And it certainly won’t fit with the backing track we’ve already got,” Freddie pointed out from behind his mic stand.  
Roger strode out from behind his drums.  
“Oh of course! Because everything has to fit your way doesn’t it? You know what, fuck the fucking sythesizers and the- oh the fucking drum machine- don’t even get me started, John- If you want everything so perfect then you can program machines to play your songs because even I’m obviously not fucking good enough!”  
“You are good enough! You’re just not playing what you’re supposed to- look we had this argument with Another One Bites The Dust and people loved that didn’t they? It was so much better than what we thought it would be and this will be the same if you just play correctly!”  
“He may have a point, Rog, it’ll all be over quicker if you just do it right this time,” Brian added on.  
“Oh you’re one to talk! He let you have your fucking guitar solo when you argued back so don’t you dare tell me to just shut up and play what’s ‘correct.’”  
“I just meant-”  
“I don’t care what you meant- I mean it’s bad enough you agreeing with Deaky after you’re supposed to be on my side, but considering the whole premise of the song is that it’s basically a diss track against you, I thought you’d be more reluctant to play it!”  
As soon as his shouting subsided, the room was engulfed in silence as wide eyes met wide eyes.  
“I- It’s what?”  
Roger smirked, anger weighing over sense in his brain. “Yeah, why do you think Deaky only recently wrote it after one week in the recording studio?” he taunted. “He complains about you and your criticisms all the time when we’re at home- I thought you’d have realised by now what his lyrics really mean,” he finished with a flourish, smirking over at a worried looking John as if to say ‘now who’s in trouble.’ Deaky looked on the verge of tears as, once again, the room was filled with silence.  
“Is that true?” Brian was trying very hard to remain calm as he thought over the lyrics to the song they had played over and over already. John could tell by the way he balled his fists up and his breathing grew slightly more rough.  
“I- I wrote it about our fights- all of us- because I hate it, I hate when you all put me down for my work- and Brian we had that big argument about the solo which only fuelled the fire-”  
“But it’s still about me?”  
Slowly, and regretfully, John nodded. That was all Brian needed before his guitar was thrown onto its stand and he was out of the studio, the sound of the door slamming echoing around the studio until John thought it was all he’d ever hear again.  
“I’m going to go talk to him...” Freddie stated, moving towards the door.  
“Why bother? He’ll only ‘talk back,’” Roger mocked the lyrics of the song.  
“Oh my fucking god,” came a groan from John who sounded like he could strangle the blonde.  
“Oh choke on Deaky’s dick, Roger,” was Freddie’s reply as he slammed the door a little less louder.  
“Happy now?” Deaky spat, hand on his hip which was cocked to the side. His lower half was visible now he’d put his bass down.  
“Oh not at all, I still hate that fucking song-”  
“That doesn’t mean you can do things like this! Yeah it’s bad but he needn’t have known and then none of this,” he gestured around at the half empty room, “would’ve ever happened!”  
“Oh like we weren’t already fighting anyway!”  
“You just made it ten times worse though! And here’s the thing, you always do-”  
Roger went to protest but John snapped back at him, not letting him get a word in edgewise.  
“No, you’re going to listen to me Roger. You find the tiniest thing wrong with something and you bicker and bicker and bicker until you get your way! And so does Brian! And answer me this: have I ever written a song that has not been criticised by one or more of you? Hm? I asked you to fucking answer me, Rog.”  
“No, no you haven’t,” Roger sighed, glancing down at the floor. He’d never had Deaky shout at him like this before and he hadn’t realised just how intimidating he could be.  
“Exactly! And can we not just make one album- no screw that- one song where none of you complain about how you hate it? It makes me feel like shit and now you’ve come along and made Brian and Freddie and me all feel horrible!”  
There was some more silence as Roger held his hands clasped in front of him with his head bowed like a naughty school child who had been called into the headteacher’s office. His hands were there for good reason, however, he couldn’t let John see how hard he was.  
“Well? Aren’t you going to apologise?”  
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry… that you write these songs and then have the audacity to tell us not to criticise them...”  
“What?”  
“Don’t get me wrong, some of your songs I love, but sometimes, Deaks, they’re just a bit shit.”  
John’s eyes grew wider and more filled with anger once more.  
“Roger, I-”  
“Oh come on! Don’t pretend you’re all high and mighty- you wrote misfire about me for god’s sakes- I’ll never live that one down with Brian and Freddie- and now you’ve basically written a diss track against Brian! What’s worse is it’s fucking disco! We don’t do disco!”  
“I do disco!”  
“It’s not your album- it’s Hot Space by Queen not Hot Space by John Deacon, unless you want to sing it all yourself!”  
“You know perfectly well I can’t do that!”  
“Exactly, you need us Deaks, so I suggest you compromise on what we’re doing or the arguments will continue and we won’t have an album at all!”  
“Is that your try at blackmail? You’re pathetic,” he rolled his eyes. Roger felt his cock twitch- god, sometimes he really hated his stupid kink.  
“Don’t roll your eyes at me! If anything, I should be annoyed at you!” he shouted, hands flying up in the air in a burst of outrage.  
John’s automatic response was to roll his eyes again, so he did, until they landed on the outline of Roger’s dick through his trousers.  
“Uh- Roger-”  
“Don’t stare at my hard on while we’re fighting!”  
To say John was confused was an understatement; they were having their first big argument as a couple and now this? John knew about Roger’s kink, in fact, they’d pretty easily fallen into the rhythm of John being dominant in the bedroom early into their relationship, but he wasn’t expecting it to come up today. But then, to say he wasn’t also a little turned on by this was also a lie.  
“I just-”  
“No. We have more pressing matters, like how you should be the one apologising to Brian-”  
“I should be the one apologising? You’re the one who told Brian it was about him when it was about all of us fighting! What, were you trying to expose me for something just so you could feel a bit better about yourself? Absolutely pathetic,” he shouted.  
“Shut the fuck up!” he shouted back timidly, as if it was all he could try at this point. The tremble in his voice meant Deaky was winning and Roger was definitely becoming more aroused. Deaky knew what he was doing and where they would end up if he continued. “You’re the one who wrote the damn thing- you fucking apologise!”  
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he said sternly, meeting Roger’s eyes. When Roger flushed pink, John knew he was going to give in and adopt his submissive attitude soon. So he continued. “I’m not going to apologise for something you told Brian! I never complain about him at home and you know it- you’re just mad because you don’t like that it’s my song, not yours.”  
“Oh my god we’re going round in circles, John! No I don’t like your song, in fact, I bloody hate it and, right now, I hate you!”  
“Say that again,” he stepped closer, looking down at Roger for he was slightly taller than his boyfriend. He glanced down to see his cock positively straining through his jeans by this point and he could sense Roger was getting increasingly embarrassed.  
“That’s right! I hate you! John Richard Deacon I hate you!” He said with all his might, but John couldn’t believe him, not when he was looking at him like that.  
“You say ‘I hate you’ but all I’m hearing is ‘fuck me,’” he smirked.  
“Fuck me? Fuck you!” Roger tried to keep up the angry facade, though they both knew he was way past that.  
“You wish, baby boy.”  
Roger made a sound in his throat that was a mixture between a whine and a moan and that was all it took before John’s calloused hands were stroking the bulge in Roger’s trousers and desperately trying to unbutton them.  
“John,” he moaned, then tried again. “John… someone could come in…”  
“Do I look like I care?”  
When he finally did unbutton them, his trousers and pants were pulled off all at once and Roger’s cock sprung free to slap his clothed belly.  
John was still willing to take it further so stepped back to admire what he had done to the blonde.  
“God, you’re already so hard for me and I haven’t even done anything yet. Such a little slut for me, huh?”  
Roger let out another breathy moan and nodded, John’s words going straight to his dick.  
“You’re gonna get on your pretty little knees and suck my cock. Maybe it’ll shut you up for a while,” he said, unbuckling his belt. “You’d like that huh? Something nice and big filling your throat so you can’t even breathe? Again, fucking answer me, Roger.”  
Roger licked his dry lips before he could speak. “Yes… Yes I would like that, please... just fuck my face.”  
John moaned as Roger perched himself on his knees in front of him. It was a beautiful sight really, Roger on his knees for him, so hard and ready to comply. It almost made him forget about the argument. Almost.  
As he pulled down his pants and trousers, Roger eyed his dick as it sprang free. He didn’t know John had it in him to be this dominant but Roger wasn’t about to ask him about it, not when he was so willing for his boyfriend to fuck him.  
He took the head into his mouth, sucking ever so slightly and occasionally allowing his tongue to dip into the slit at the tip. God, he could do this all day; Deaky had such a huge, pretty cock.  
Suddenly hands were grabbing at his short hair and he was pulled off his boyfriend.  
“Stop teasing. Suck my cock nice and good and then maybe I’ll fuck you senseless as a reward,” he said sternly. Roger stared back up at him with wide eyes and a watering mouth and nodded before allowing himself to be thrust forward to take John’s length in his mouth.  
His tongue explored every memorised vein and inch of skin as if it was all that mattered. John’s hand didn’t leave his hair after that, slowly pulling it so his cock disappeared further into Roger’s throat each time. He was throwing his head back in ecstasy and moaning already.  
He had gone from rocking into his mouth to fucking it in a matter of minutes and Roger was not complaining. Sure, there were a few tears streaming down his face and, sure, he was having trouble breathing every now and then but that was just all part of the fun. Roger reckoned, if he brought his hand up to his neck, he’d be able to feel his boyfriend through the skin there. And he would love it.  
“Good boy,” was all Deaky said as he pulled Roger off his cock a final time. Both his dick and Roger’s bottom lip were slicked in saliva and precum. Roger whined so quietly that you would probably not even hear him. But Deaky did.  
“Are you whining because you haven’t got a cock in your mouth, Roger? Fucking hell... It’s all you’re useful for anyway- sucking my cock- you’re a fucking worthless cockslut, you know that?”  
Roger nodded, his dick twitching with every degrading thing John was saying. John rid himself of his shirt and bent down to meet Roger’s glassy eyes. They were so filled with want and compliance and John was having a hard time not moaning out loud at just the sight of his boyfriend. He reached a hand up to cup Roger’s chin and smiled sweetly.  
“All you are is my fucking toy, isn’t that right Roger? So quiet and submissive all for me and all because I just ask you. You don’t need to think twice, you know you’re my slut and you’ll do whatever to please me,” he smirked and admired the way Roger’s pupils dilated. “Now, Roger, tell me what you are.”  
“I- Oh I’m your slut- I’m your toy. I’m here to please you and only you, Deaky... please use me- fill me up with your big cock, I need it inside me again-”  
Well John wasn’t going to say no to that.  
“Get up.” Roger got up.  
“Over there,” He walked over to the wall, John following him all the way, admiring his pert ass from behind.  
“Good, now we don’t have lube so you better have sucked my cock well enough baby boy. And I’m not even going to bother fingering you, you’re not fucking worth it. Right, legs around my waist.”  
Roger complied with no hesitance; he had done this before and he could do it again.  
The breath was punched out of him as Deaky pushed all the way in without warning. Their bodies were flushed together, Roger’s clothed torso next to John’s unclothed one. Roger clawed at his back like mad and bit down harshly on his boyfriend’s shoulder. He was ever thankful that John stopped there and didn’t move any more.  
“What? Can’t take it?” It was delivered in a snarky tone but both knew it was just John’s way of checking that Roger was alright before he went any further. Roger took some time to calm down before shaking his head so John would continue. But he didn’t, just for a moment.  
“Don’t think I forgot about what a brat you’ve been, Roger, arguing with me and making me look so cruel in front of our friends. So you’re going to take my cock like a good boy and then you’re going to apologise for being such an insufferable little brat all day. And you know the rules of your punishment: no touching and, if you don’t come before I do, you’re not coming all day. See how you like apologising to Brian and Freddie with a hard on, eh?”  
Roger gulped and nodded, trying to brace himself for what would come.  
John pulled out almost all the way before slamming back into Roger’s tight hole, letting out a moan that could probably be heard from outside the room. And then he kept going, his thrusts becoming greater and sloppier as he tried to hold Roger up against the wall at the same time. He sunk his teeth into Roger’s shoulder, earning a loud moan, as he left bite after bite and hickey after hickey. Roger wouldn’t be able to leave the house in his low cut shirts anymore, Deaky made sure of that, that was, if was able to walk by the time they finished.  
At one point, he struggled to hoist Roger back up the wall slightly, John’s hands gripping his ass tightly as he found a new angle to thrust at. It was when Roger’s eyes rolled back into his head and his high pitched ah-ah-ah’s started that John knew he’d found his prostate. So he kept going, fucking Roger’s prostate faster and faster until Roger couldn't breathe again.  
“You think you can come untouched or do you need me to help?”  
“I- I- ah- might need- ahh- help please.”  
“Fucking incapable slut.” He punctuated every word with a hard thrust. “Can’t even come when I ask you to,” John tutted as he gazed at Roger’s cock. The tip was so red and dripping with precum and looked like it was physically painful, it was so hard.  
John used some of the wetness to slick up his cock antagonisingly slower than his thrusts were just to torture his boyfriend a bit more. To say Roger let out a loud moan was a huge understatement; he went berserk, fucking into John’s hand and moaning twice as loud.  
“Fuck fuck fuck- fucking hell John! Need to come- ah-ah-ah-  
John hadn’t really considered how long Roger had gone with his hard cock untouched and now every light touch caused curses and moans to fall from his lips.  
“Baby boy, I’m gonna come- ahhh- gonna come- so you better do the same before I do.”  
He must’ve pushed Roger to the edge because, with a few more thrusts, he was coming all over John’s hand, the rest spraying onto their chests. John came only a few seconds later. He was heavily panting as he pulled out to let Roger stand up again. Roger just slid to the floor, his legs instantly giving out underneath him. John propped himself against the wall next to him.  
“God… that was…” Roger trailed off, unable to finish his sentence as his breathing evened out.  
“Amazing- yeah-” John finished for him. “Are you alright?”  
“Mhm, never felt better…”  
“Who knew you had that in you?” Roger smirked up at him after he’d come down from his high.  
John just laughed back. “Let’s get cleaned up, shall we? I’m sure we’ve got tissues around here somewhere, they’ll have to do- aha! Found them!”  
John got to work on cleaning Roger up.  
“Ugh, I’ve got come on my shirt!”  
“Well that’s yours so you only really have yourself to blame,” John smiled, laughing to himself.  
“Yeah I know, all yours is still inside of me,” Roger rolled his eyes and laughed.  
“Not anymore, I think you’re all clean, or as clean as you can be- we’re definitely having a shower when we get home.”  
“Obviously. But what about my shirt?”  
“I’m sure there’ll be a spare one around here somewhere. Maybe you could steal Freddie’s jacket.”  
“He’d kill me.”  
“Well then we’d both have bandmates trying to kill us wouldn’t we?” John had fetched their clothes now and was working on buttoning up his jeans.  
“I thought you might kill me earlier,” Roger laughed.  
“I’d never, I think I love you a bit too much,” he smiled. “But we’ll talk about it all in a few days, we need some time apart just for a bit to rest and think things through because none of you are being rational right now.”  
“Uh, and you-”  
“Well I suppose,” John laughed, sitting down next to Roger.  
“You just spent the last hour shouting at me and then calling me a slut and fucking me into a wall- I wouldn’t call that being rational,” he smirked.  
“Well you enjoyed it so I guess neither of us are,” he laughed.  
“You didn’t kiss me throughout the entirety of that amazing sex, come on John, were you really that mad at me?”  
“No you know it’s all fun and games, we’ll both apologise when they get back, but I’ll kiss you now if it makes you happy.”  
“It really would,” Roger smiled leaning in to connect their lips.  
“You know I love you,” John pulled away for a second.  
“Mhm, and I love you... and I’ll reconsider the song.”  
“Well next time you need convincing to do something I’ll know exactly how to fuck you into doing it,” John smirked.  
“Shut up.”  
“Make me.”  
Roger leaned in again.


End file.
